<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>It's Art by TheSofterGentlerMe</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27658577">It's Art</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSofterGentlerMe/pseuds/TheSofterGentlerMe'>TheSofterGentlerMe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Artist Catra (She-Ra), F/F, Fluff, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:42:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,142</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27658577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSofterGentlerMe/pseuds/TheSofterGentlerMe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For Catra, the act of creating art is a very personal, and serious, thing but that doesn't mean she isn't going to go to the occasional art conference and indulge her contrary side.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adora/Catra (She-Ra), catradora - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It's Art</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Shall we?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“And so it follows that this explains the jarring juxtaposition of the two discordant patterns which is further reinforced by the use of the colors for the patterns that clash not only within the individual patterns themselves but also clash in an entirely different manner with the opposing pattern,” the speaker said as the holographic image of the painting floating behind her slowly turned for the audience to view. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catra sat at the back of the conference at the Bright Moon gallery as the speaker made their closing remarks about an artist from the pre-Etherian Horde invasion era. She disagreed with pretty much all of the speaker’s conclusions about the artist’s intent but before she’d come she’d told Adora that she wouldn’t start any screaming matches over artwork at the conference.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She remembered the last time she’d got into a heated argument at a conference she’d been sitting at home with Adora over dinner when Adora had said, “Why don’t you ever do this for your own artwork? There’s whole panels on your stuff but you never utter a peep about it. Heck, you almost never even go to those. But you go to some other panel and then you get into these wild discussions that devolve into multiple shouting matches. It’s not like you even have a consistent opinion you're defending. You just pick the most contrary argument and go at it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catra had shrugged and said, “Honestly? It’s funny. I like throwing out the wildest conjecture against their thesis that I can think of and then see where it goes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know people are taking these little side digressions and trying to apply them to your own stuff don’t you?” Adora said. “Doesn’t that bother you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catra shrugged again and said, “Not really. Art has meaning. I really believe that. I believe it can change lives and I’m happy that my art brings that to others, that they can find deep meaning in it. But that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>their</span>
  </em>
  <span> deep meaning that they find themselves. I know what it means to me, I know why I created it, but it’s not my place to put that out there and try to force my opinion into their heads. It’s up to them to approach my work, with all their preconceptions and notions about life and art, and find the meaning that matters to </span>
  <em>
    <span>them.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then maybe stop doing the arguments because people think that it’s your opinion and you’re sabotaging yourself if you want them to try and find a meaning from themself that’s not tainted by some notion of what you think. They’re taking you seriously whether you want them to or not. They don’t know you like I do and know that you’re a bit of a pain in the rear who just likes being contrary,” Adora said with a smile as cupped her hand on one side of Catra’s face and gave a little scratch under her ear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catra stretched a little and gave a soft smile as she said, “Alright, alright. I won’t go and start an argument at this next one. I’ll see how it goes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Back in the conference people were asking questions of the speaker as Catra thought of several things to say but ultimately she knew Adora was right. She shook her head with a rueful grin to clear the question she knew would have the whole room arguing within minutes and instead walked out of the door next to her into the main gallery. As she walked through, headed for lunch with Glimmer, she came to a stop in front of a piece she’d done a few years before hanging on the wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Memories Burned and Repressed</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the tag read next to the huge painting. It was a nonrepresentational piece that was a mass of seething subtle shades of green shot through with razor thin lines of black. She looked at it and hugged herself tight as she remembered exactly what had driven the painting of the work. She’d heard plenty of theory on it but no one had ever really nailed it. Hordak was the only person she felt who’d seen it and fully understood how she’d felt making it but she figured that was understandable considering. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catra turned to leave and almost ran into a teenager who was staring at her. The clothes she wore said Plumeria but that didn’t mean as much as it used to as Etherians travelled far and wide after the war and the clothing styles travelled with them. However, the giant sketch board and sketchpad as well as the pouch slung over her shoulder full of art supplies meant artist through and through. The teenager's eyes went wide as she started to stammer out a sorry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catra smiled and raised a hand to stop her as she said, “No, it’s alright. It’s on me, I wasn’t paying attention. What’s your name?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gar,” she said nervously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catra smiled and said, “Well, Gar, I’m Catra. Sorry for almost running you over there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know who you are,” Gar said. Then she nodded up at the painting and said, “You made that didn’t you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s right, I did,” Catra said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catra could see a war going on in Gar’s mind as she tried to decide what to say next. Finally, she said, “I don’t want to be a bother but I’m a… um, I mean, I want to be an artist. Can you give me any tips? Please?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catra said, “Sure. I’ll give you two. One, create for yourself. Do it because it fulfills something in you. And two, stop saying you want to be an artist. You already are one so say it proudly and let no one tell you otherwise. The world will do it’s best to grind you down. Don’t help it along by denying who you are and what you want.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gar stood there for a moment thinking about what Catra had said and finally nodded as she said, “Ok. Ok, I can do that.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catra realized she needed to hurry to meet Glimmer for lunch and so started slowly walking as she said, “Good. I gotta go now to meet up with a friend. Do great work for yourself, artist.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gar looked dazed for a moment and then broke out in a huge smile as Catra walked past her. About ten minutes later Catra was sitting down at a table with Glimmer who dramatically looked at the clock on the wall before turning back to Catra. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, Sparkles, I know I’m late,” Catra said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t say anything,” Glimmer responded with a smirk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t have to, I can see it all over your face,” Catra said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What held you up?” Glimmer said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just having a conversation with another artist,” Catra said as she took a sip of water. “So, what’s new with you?” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Not much to say on this one except that I hope you enjoyed it!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>